I sat upon my hill
And watched the world go still
It's me who's turning

They smile on the stage
Burning cloves and sage
For our distraction

And pulling at the grass
A hundred headlights pass
I'm left without an option

I feel so fucked
The plastic in my blood
Is past the point of melting
Petroleum Mausoleum
Of my own making
And I will try not to combust

I've seen rainbow beaches
Colored by a billion
Little plastic pieces
The air that we breathe
High mountain to low sea
Is of a modern vintage
And I will not hold my breath
And I cannot